Just Tutoring, Right?
by awesomelydivergent
Summary: All those words, carelessly thrown my way, yeah, believe it or not, they get to me. But that's the point isn't it? To let your words get to me. Well who would've thought that you could experience remorse, yeah, not me. My eyes literally bulged out of their sockets. "But I don't want to! Mrs. Reyes, surely there's someone more qualified than me!"
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey y'all! Wow I sound Southern.**

**Anyways, as you can see, I wrote another fanfic!**

**I suggest you read it. Scratch that, I strongly suggest you read it.**

**Oh, and I used the beginning from a similar experience my friend, N, had. N, if you're reading this, I want to thank you.**

**Now I usually don't write stories like this, where pretty much the name is the only thing that makes this a 'fanfic', but I had this concept and plot in mind, so I decided to make the first chapter. **

**I kinda know where this story's going, so hold off on the suggestions. **

**Not to be rude or anything, but I'm always overcome with this feeling that my readers can see through my whole plot twist when they suggest ideas. **

**Most of the time I appreciate it, but until I ask, don't give any ideas to the other readers!**

**THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO READ THIS BLURB!**

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_"I don't hate you.. I just don't like that you exist"_  
_― Gena Showalter_

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

Chapter 1 

**Tris POV**

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So, it turns out that my parents want me to socialize more, specifically with other teens. One thing led to another, and now I'm locked out of my house, my parents hoping that I will swallow my pride and head to the party next door.

I guess that's why I'm propped up against the obscure side of my house, in between the garbage cans, head in hands. As you can see, I'm no normal teenager, who would instead beg their parents to go to parties. I was perfectly happy with spending my Friday night stuck up in my room, reading the _Fault In Our Stars_ for the millionth time this week.

My life is a cycle, no surprises. I study hard, do good in school, and play in the chess club, because that's _all I'll ever be good for_. Yeah, right. I can kick ass, seeing that I'm a black-belt in Karate.

Though no one considers 'Karate' a worthy sport, what the fudge? But it makes sooo much sense for cheerleading to be a sport, not at all a prostitute's guide to dirty dancing.

But who would waste their time listening to me, a part of the geeky group. It's so cliché, isn't it? I thought that when hipsterism was spreading, it would affect my school too. Instead, people are just as immature as they were years ago, if not worse.

I turn my phone on, and check at the time if it's been fifteen minutes yet so I can go home. What luck, it has been five minutes past the allotted time. Unfortunately, the moment I step onto my creaky porch, my dad pops his head out of the door, and sternly says that I can come home an hour later, and that he will walk me to the party.

"But dad, I don't see the point of this. I was having a blast in my room. And why does Caleb get to stay home?"

"Because he has friends over. What about you? This is your opportunity to make more friends." He says it like it's a good thing, locking your daughter out of the house. I mean seriously, that's bad parenting.

However, I have no other ideas, so I slowly walk with my dad to the loud party next door. See, the host of the party is the bain of my life, aka, the Tobias Eaton, whose dad is a family friend. Thing is, Tobias and I hate each other. And if that isn't enough, he makes school torture for me, insults me in the face, and is forced to come over every Thursday for dinner.

Years ago, we used to be inseparable. Practically joined at the hip. But that summer my family decided that it was deemed 'necessary' for family time, that was the summer when it all changed.

Toby, now Tobias, met the most popular kids in school, and decided that he was 'too good for me', quote his girlfriend, Lauren. If they aren't sucking each other's faces off, they try every way to make my life miserable.

So yes, they have succeeded tonight when my dad gives me the look, and watches me approach the crowd of dancing kids. As soon as I see him disappear, I try to make my way out, but many people recognize me, and give me dirty looks.

I act like I don't care, but I do.

Especially when Lauren grabs my shoulder just as I'm about to turn around. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was leaving." I answer, keeping a straight-face. If you could imagine a tenth-grade stripper, that would be what I'm looking at. The makeup, the tight and small clothing, all sealing the deal. Sometimes I like to wonder where popular cheerleaders like her end up. And then I remember that the world is a cruel, and dirty place.

Oh and this night actually gets worse. Just as I'm about to put my Karate skills to the test, Tobias makes his way to Lauren, and is about to kiss her, when he sees me.

"Let go of me!" I shout. Over the past five minutes, the whole student body have turned their attention to me, and are watching right now saying very mean things.

Tobias chuckles, "So, I saw your dad drag you hear. Did your parents finally get tired of you, just like everyone else has? Have they finally realized that you're worthless, bitch?"

Don't let it get to you, Beatrice. Don't let it get to you.  
I let it get to me.

"I'm the bitch? You don't exactly look like an angel right now. Or ever. Bitch." I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have said that. Man, sometimes I have such a big mouth, and can't control whatever comes out. I wish I could eat up those words. The slut in front of me displays different shades of red that don't even look that vibrant on retina display. Haha, nerd joke.

Lauren being the idiot she is, decides that throwing herself on top of me, and clawing at my face will make everything better. Although I regret saying it, there's no way in hell I'm going to apologize to her. Her nails dig deep into my skin, and I silently thank god it's a weekend, so these scratches will fade by Monday. I hope.

Tobias pries Lauren off of me, whispering into her ear, and I take this opportunity to run.

I sprint faster than ever, pumping my legs. I don't have to mutter excuse-me's, because the crowd has parted already, and the students watch me run home, yelling horrible things at me. All I want to do is roll up into a ball, and disappear.

Just disappear into thin air.

Too bad magic tricks can't fix the broken.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Okay, I obviously didn't proofread this. So it started out with me typing away merrily on my laptop, and then I saw my phone and headphones were right in reach, and I was like, maybe a few tunes will quicken it all.**

**And then the next thing I know, it's evening, and I'm jamming on P!nk, and then begin to write whatever comes to mind.**

**Therefore, I apologize beforehand for any mistakes I have made, and that this chapter sucks. Usually I'll tell you to ignore sucky chapters, but this one's important because it talks about Tris's...problem.**

**Hm... I wonder if there's anything else I was planning to say. Guess not. Byeeee!**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

Chapter 2- 

**Tris POV**

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_"First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win."_

_-Mahatma Ghandi_

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My home closes in, and I start to slow down my pace. Sweat beads drip from my head, and I use the back of my hand to wipe them off. Without even thinking, I run onto the porch and bang on the door like crazy. All the lights in my house are off, and my phone tells me it's past eleven. It turns out that my parents forgot about me, and locked me out of the house.

Great, now my parents, and my brother don't even care about me. Maybe everyone's right, I should disappear from the face of the earth. Just go to hell.

To be honest, this isn't the first time this thought has occurred to me, and it always leaves a mark on me. Literally.

One year after I realized Tobias wasn't coming back, the realization slapped me in the face. I'm not good enough, for anyone. Ever since I started high school, my parents have been distancing themselves from me, and I have a few friends, who are probably all hanging out together, without me. My brother could care less about me, all he cares about is keeping his image.

Not even my best friend of eight years wanted me around.

That's when it all started. Of course, the feeling has dimmed over the years, but I'm not certain it will ever disappear. However, the addiction still thrives within me, clawing at every inch of surface of me.

It's like I get a release when I feel the blood flow, dripping it's beautiful color all over me. Sometimes though, it doesn't feel like it's enough, like there's more I could do.

But once you start, you can't stop. The addiction eats you alive, until you no longer 'suffer from personhood'. And I have a notion that I'm not done in this world, so I keep trying.

I guess that's why my back is against the floor, in between two garbage cans. I could always use my phone to call home, but who would want to put up with me? I can come back in the morning, when I won't be bothering anyone.

No one knows about my problem, they just assume that I'm never happy. That's not true.

I remember that I always smiled when I was younger, people would stare at me. I was so young and carefree, unable to comprehend that people are back-stabbing bitches. And even if I did know that, I would never have been able to suspect Tobias to be one of those.

He was the only person I could ever talk to, I was closest to him. When I ever had a problem, he could cheer me up in a matter of seconds. Everyday after school, he would come over, and we could spend hours together, doing nothing. And when we couldn't physically see each other, he would always call, and we would fall asleep with each other still on the line.

What happened?

Was I not good enough?

Am I really like everyone says? My brain says otherwise, but I stopped hoping months ago, when everything was turning upside-down. Sometimes, I would go through phases, where I would stay quiet, not talking unless spoken to. My family assumed that it was just hormones, and what not.

I wonder if anyone ever feels guilty. Probably not, I am worthless.

So really, I'm just a girl who's:

-A victim of bullying

-Lost her best friend

-Is the most made-fun-of nerd at school

-Has no family to turn to

-Cuts

-And has psychological problems

Yep, my bucket list is complete. Note my sarcasm. Still, I got what I deserve. People would ask why, if I revealed my feelings. I would respond that how come no one else is the laughing stock of the school? I could have defended myself, I should have been less trusting in lying bastards, and I should have fought harder.

So, that was my whole Friday night. A one to remember, I thought as I felt my eyes drooping. I curled up in a ball form, and drifted to sleep.

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"What are you doing here?" My mom yells, waking me up. I click on my phone, 9:46.

"Well, it's not my fault you guys locked me out of the house! I was practically going to destroy the door!" I spit back at her, and she bites her lip, fully aware of her bad parenting.

"Look, things at work have been stressful, so I'm sorry dear." You've got to be kidding me, right?

"So, that justifies everything? The fuck mom, I didn't want to leave the house, but 'because work has been stressful', it's okay for you to force me to go to a party, which by the way, I was humiliated and kicked out of!" By the time all that leaves my mouth, my lungs demand air.

I don't wait for her response, instead I walk into the house, and slam the door behind me.

My father asks, "Where have you been, young lady?" Seriously, my parents, I literally hate them at times. They've always valued Caleb more, and don't have a problem showing it. If anything, I'm a failure, and an embarrassment to the family, said by each member at some point of my existence.

No doubt, my father misunderstands the situation, and hollers at me to come back, but I'm already at the top of the stairs. I enter my bedroom, and slam the door behind me.

This is all too much for me. Why can't I have a normal life, one where I'm _happy_?

Why do I have to put up with all this shit? Why?

For years, I wondered that, why did it all happen to me? What did I do wrong?

Why me?


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Inspiration is hard to acquire, these days, so I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. I suggest you read this chapter, for a lot goes down in it. **

**Poor Tris, I send her my kisses, :***

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 3

**Tris POV**

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_"We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty."_

_-Mother Teresa_

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Sometimes, I wish I had cancer. That way, I could die, and be done with it all. It might seem weird, but I want to be 'the side effect', as John Green refers to cancer patients as.

At least then, I would have a reason to be miserable.

That explains why I have locked myself in my bathroom, but hey, at least I am fortunate to have my own! Hint: Sarcasm.

The razor lies in my palm, so powerless without me giving it the power to hurt me. Just like in TFIOS, this little razor is a metaphor.

But now I give it the power to not kill me, since I am careful, but the power to hurt me. Slowly, I pull down my pants, and take off my shirt. That way, nothing will get drenched in the dark red liquid.

Carefully, I drag the blade across my inner-thighs, making seven small lines. The blood drips down, and a feeling of relief courses through my veins. The process never ceases to amaze me.

I remain in that posture for a good five minutes, and turn on the shower, wanting to wash off the stink from sleeping between garbage cans. I place the razor back in my secret jewelry box, along with my other eight razors.

_Until next time._

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After my extra-long shower, I spend the rest of my night curling up in my bed with TFIOS, rereading it for what seemed like the gazillionth time. Not wanting to see the pity on my parents' faces, I stay in my bedroom, and skip dinner. Great, I'll just add anorexic to the list off all the things I've wanted to do.

I hear knocks on my door, either my mom or dad wanting to apologize, but I just tell them that I'm busy. I don't want their fakeness, their shallow sorrow. My brother doesn't even bother, and I'm glad for it. Sure, it stings that he doesn't care, but it's easier for me to forget him.

A feeling of tiredness comes over me, even though it's only 9pm. Not eating for a whole day can do that to a person, but I couldn't care less. I lie under my duvet, and yawn.

Before I know it, my eyes close, and I am lost in a dream.

Maybe Sunday will be better.

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I instantly regret not locking my bedroom door the night before.

My parents and my brother stand before me, invading my personal space. I try to hold my tongue, as I sit up, holding the duvet over me, firmly. I am only wearing shorts, because I didn't pull on my usual sweats, so I have to hide my cuts under the cover.

"Good morning honey," my mom greets me in an overly happy tone, that parents use on their children.

I remain silent, and keep my eyes trained on my greenish fingernails, that have to repaint.

"Beatrice," my father addresses me, but I still don't look at him, "Beatrice, we want you to know that we're sorry about yesterday. We didn't know-"

I cut him off abruptly, "Didn't know what? I told you I didn't want to go. For years, Tobias had been bullying me, and I'd come home crying, but no one cared! You locked me out of my own house, Dad, I had to sleep next to a garbage can! I'm tired of it, all of it!", by this point I stare directly at all three of them, "All of you think I am a disappointment, and don't tell me that it's not true, you've all said yourselves!"

"Well honey, you should've told us that something was bothering you." My mom says.

No way, no. "You're kidding me, right?" My eyes search my mother's face, to see if she's joking. "What do you mean, I never told you? You both are always at work, and Caleb is never around when I need him, convinced that I'm going to embarrass him even more. Every second of every day, you know exactly what Caleb is doing, where he is, but me? No one bothers. I tried to talk, but no one ever had time for me! What kind of a parent are you?"

At this, my mom starts sobbing, and my father helps her out of my room. Caleb gets up, and shoots me a dirty look.

I hate him, I hate my parents, I hate Tobias, I hate my life.

And I hate myself.

Why am I so fucked up? What did I do to deserve this? I try hard, every single fucking day. I get out of bed every morning, hoping that I will have a great day, hoping that I will finally be loved. Hoping that I will love myself.

But every time I see their faces, I know that I can never outshine my brother, that no one would ever love me, that I'm a waste of time.

Suddenly, I am short of breath, and it feels like the walls in my room are tightening on me. I am so pissed, I punch my wall, but don't accomplish in damaging it.

I will always be a small, defenseless, and worthless girl.

And that's when something deep within me snaps. That life isn't worth living, that if I were gone, everyone would be relieved.

But am I really ready for that? The truth is, I always told myself, and even heard from others, that it gets better. After all, many celebrities have gone through similar situations as I had, and even worse.

Now I feel selfish, thinking how that even though I am neglected, there are people out there that have nothing. Who not only are neglected, but don't have a roof over them, or a bed to sleep on, or don't even have a house.

It's all so confusing, I can't decide on what to do!

Exhausted emotionally, I curl up into a ball onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. I can't control it, the crying.

Twice today, my mom bursts through the door, calling out my name. It doesn't take long for her to find me behind my bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She sits next to me, and stretched her arms toward me. I don't bother fighting her off, because I can't remember the last time either of my parents' hugged me.

It feels nice.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hello! **

***The polls are still going, so if this isn't the story you wanted me to update, then vote! I understand that some of us do not have access to the poll located on the top of my profile page, so feel free to do so in the comments. Even PM me! I don't care how, just communicate with me some how, so that your voice can be heard!***

**I present to you, Chapter 4. **

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 4

**Tris POV**

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_"I belong to the people I love, and they belong to me-they, and the love and loyaty I give them, form my identity far more than any word or group ever could."_

_-Veronica Roth _

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Only my parents call me Beatrice. And my brother.

I hate it. It sounds so formal, stuffy, so uptight.

Caleb knows how much I hate it, so he addresses me as Beatrice to annoy me. It worked at first, but then again, he does anything to mess with me. I learned my lesson afterward to never let him know my dislikes. Which is pretty much everything.

_He _knew how much it bothered me. That's why he came up with a solution.

Years ago, my best friend nicknamed me Tris, and it stuck afterwards. Tris.

Tobias said it suited me, better than Beatrice ever did.

_"Bea doesn't sound right. It's like Junie B. Jones, you both hate your name."_

_I raised my eyebrows, "And you remember that how?..." It's not the most impressive thing for a teenage boy to read. Junie B. Jones_

_He blushed a deep red, "Anyways, I came up with something. Tris. It sounds badass, don't you think?" _

_Instantaneously, a smile formed on my face, and mirrored his. "And how about we get everyone to call you Toby. You know? 'Cause 'it's totally badass'!" _

_We both laughed at that, because he would never agreed to that in a million years. Although it took a while for me to adjust to my new name, I eventually did, and so did all our friends. Except for my parents, they refused to call me it. _

The small smirk on my face disappears after I remember that the memory is an old one, one that I should just forget about. He probably regrets giving me that name, and is disgusted with himself for doing so.

He clearly showed how much he wanted to trash our previous friendship in freshman year. He kept bouncing insults at me, to let his popular friends know that I was nothing to him. At first, it stung. A lot. To the point where I tried to change myself.

Then, horrifyingly, I got used to it._ 'No one should have to go through all that'_ All that anti-bullying bullshit. They preach about it all the time at school, stupid assemblies. Yet, it's an ongoing problem.

I guess they're ignoring my situation, not trying to solve it, since they've realized it's hopeless. Don't you think it's a bit strange that my parents, Tobias's parents, and all the teachers at school know how mean the kids are to me, but no one does anything to help.

After I figured out that the old Tobias was gone, I shed everything from me that had involved him. Threw out anything he gave me. Removed him from my contact list. The only things I kept were my nickname, and our picture together my mom took, just us two in the park by our tree.

It was a happy memory, so I saved it.

The only reason I decided to go by Tris even in high school is because even though he hurt me, I liked the name. It became a part of me. It still is.

Mrs. Reyes is the only other person besides my family to use 'Beatrice'.

"But I don't want to! Mrs. Reyes, surely there's someone more qualified than me!" Wow, did all those words just come out of my mouth. Yep, hopefully all those technical words I threw into the sentence would change her mind.

No way in hell would I agree to what she is putting me up to.

"Look Beatrice. I know that your relationship with Tobias Eaton is, well, a bit rocky...-"

I cut her off, "A little rocky? I HATE HIM!" What is it with adults trying to rephrase the obvious. The whole world's population of seven billion knows it.

"First off, I would appreciate it if you would not raise your voice in my office. Second, please consider this. We will pay you, and this will be good for you. High school isn't forever, and theses few extra credits I am offering you will come in use one day." She has a point there. Senior year is creeping up on me faster than I'd like, and there's still so much more I could do.

_We will pay you. Few extra credits. _Am I seriously considering this? Although my motive would be to get the surplus credits, money isn't so bad. All I will have to do is stay after school in the library, and teach him. It doesn't even matter if he passes, all I have to do is to keep up my end of the bargain, and show up.

"Can I sleep on it?" I need to go home, to my room, and clear my mind.

"Of course. I know this isn't the easiest decision, but please think about it." She smiles, clears her voice, and continues, "I will expect your decision by the end of the week, alright?"

I nod my head, and follow her to her desk. "Here, I'll write you a pass, and you can go back to class." She asks me what I have seventh period, writes the time and date, signs it, and hands it to me. I respectfully smile, and take my belongings and me back to seventh.

_Should I do it?_


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: HEYYO! Do you ever get that feeling that you want to disappear into thin air? Well, my weekend is ruined, which is good for you guys because that means I have more time to update! Now, I channel my pissy feelings into updating this story! Woohoo!**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 5

**Tris POV**

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_"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional."_

_-M. Kathleen Casey_

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The week passes by faster than I thought possible. Before I even knew it, it's Thursday night, and I'm still stumped.

_Should I do it?_

I have to come up with a decision by tomorrow morning, there's no other option.

One side of me is scolding me for even considering tutoring the boy who made my life a living hell, and I almost give in.

Almost.

People will always hurt me. That's part of life. You can't live in the rainbows, no one can. I was hurt, and will continue to be hurt. That fact can't be ignored. Although, being hurt by that intensity, it scares me that I am willing to forget about it, and help the cause of all my pain just for money and credits.

It makes me feel ashamed.

But also, it would be a advantage for me, the money, I could use. Especially the credits, I need those. The more I have, the better. And if that means swallowing my pride, and helping the bain of my existence, than so it should be.

Pride or reward?

I've never felt this lost at a resolve before. I don't bother asking anyone for their opinion, because what would I say? _Oh by the way, I'm helping the biggest bastard I've ever met, for money. All is good._

Damn, the situations I find myself in.

This isn't helping. At all.

I'll figure it out tomorrow morning. Yeah, my head will be clearer after a goodnight's rest.

Oh god, did I just bullshit myself? No, I made a decision.

Tobias shouldn't prevent me from getting what I deserve. Who, more than me, deserves those extra dollars, and those credits?

That's right. No one.

Just because I hate the guy's guts, doesn't mean I have to lose out on extra opportunities for advancement in my life. My pride isn't my priority right now. Getting the highest education possible is.

It's mid-tenth grade, and after eleventh, comes senior year. By then, I have to have my college application ready and packed full.

_Yes, this is a good decision_, I tell myself.

I hope so.

* * *

After a delicious bowl of Cheerio's, I head to the bathroom. Not only do I have to brush my teeth, I have to brush my retainer, it's one of those 'invisiline' ones. Honestly, I wasn't given a decision on what type of retainer I wanted.

Two years ago, after I got my braces removed, a week later my dentist gave me the invisiline retainers, and that was it.

I even have to use denture cleaners on them, twice a day.

So convenient. Anyways, I stopped using them twenty-four-seven a year ago. Now I just use them at nights.

Though my teeth were easily fixed with a few braces and retainers, my eyesight can't permanently be fixed. Unless you count surgery.

My parents would have no problem buying me contacts, but I hate them. My eyes itch all day, and those eye drops make it a hundred times worse. Eventually, I warmed up to my glasses.

For some reason, whenever I tell people that I hate glasses, they think it's because I'm embarrassed of them or something. It sets me off a lot how some people can be stupid.

No, I don't care about my looks. Call me crazy, but I feel like they're mocking me, sitting on my face, pushing down on my nose, and I'm powerless to do anything because we're so brainwashed to see how helpful they are. Right.

When I first got my glasses in sixth grade, I developed a theory.

For a week, I used them all day, not taking them off except when I went to bed. Seven days later, my eyesight decreased rapidly. I couldn't see anything, and I was so dependent on my glasses.

I don't know if that happens to everyone, but I hated that my sight was worse than before I got glasses. So I went against my doctor, and used glasses on my own accord.

I would use them at home, and in the classroom only when I had to strain to see anything on the board.

And the next year, when I went to my optician, my eyesight remained the same, while my brother who never took off his, his eyesight deteriorated. Let's say everyone was 'so' shocked.

But my smartass brother still refuses to ever take my advice.

Choosing my outfit doesn't take much effort. Everything in my closet are either jeans, sweatpants, black or dark gray shirts, and hoodies. Even though I don't consider myself emo, I fit the criteria for it perfectly.

I cut, I dress in dark colors, I listen to indie music, and I stand out. Not to offend anyone of course, but I'm just generalizing things.

I'm just a very lost nerd.

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The bus ride to school is very uneventful, which catches me off guard. Usually the kids would give anything to taunt me in the mornings. Just like every other ordinary day, I put on my beats, and turn the volume up to full blast, in case any of the kids have a change of heart.

One stop at my locker later, I'm called into main office during homeroom. I feel everyone's eyeballs on me, and I pick up my things quickly and run out of the classroom.

For some reason, everyone's being nicer to me today then usual. Well, in my book, as long as they're leaving me alone and not picking on me, they're being nice. The thing that I do mind, is that even though they're not douchebags today, all they did was stare. Even when I stared back.

I don't have to wonder over that phenomenon because Mrs. Reyes flags me down into her office.

"Have a seat, Beatrice. How are you feeling today?"

I don't bother answering, because I don't want to give the crappy, "I'm good" response. Especially when I'm not good.

She moves on to her next question, "Have you made a decision?"

I meekly nod my head, "Yes."

She cracks a bit of a smile, she understands that this was a difficult choice to make.

Mrs. Reyes is very pretty for her age. The only thing that stop people, is her very intimidating scar, reaching from her mouth to her eyebrow, blinding her in one eye. No one knows how she got it, and I don't think we'll be finding anytime soon.

"Alright then. I'm going to keep you here for awhile, because we have to work a schedule. Obviously, these tutoring sessions will be happening here at school."

Well, I guess I'll be missing health. So sad.

At the end of the meeting, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulder. Which is strange, since this isn't the most inviting situation. Tutoring my sworn enemy.

_Why do I feel this way?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 6

**Tris POV**

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_Some luck lies in not getting what you thought you wanted but getting what you have, which once you have got it you may be smart enough to see is what you would have wanted had you known. _

_ -Garrison Keillor_

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I am willing to bet that I'm the only one in the tenth grade without a car.

The cool winds of the AC hits me, so I wear my hoodie. The school library is cold.

Since it's after-school hours, I take my phone out and check my instagram while I wait for Tobias to show up. Knowing him, he has to get dressed for sports first. Not his fault he's late.

I chuckle a little when I glance at a tfios meme. If only I could be as popular in real life as I am on instagram. C'mon, 5k followers is a lot.

All people I don't know. I'm pretty sure I would get zero followers if I included my real name. Instead, on my instagram and Facebook, I go by the name, Katie Wright. A combination of my favorite name, Katherine, and my mother's maiden name.

So clever.

Five minutes go by, and I hear someone clear their throat.

He's standing right in front of me.

Tobias.

I make a point by squinting my eyes, and stash my phone in my hoodie's pocket. Thank goodness it's on silent.

Mrs. Reyes takes one look at us, and goes back to her office, my guess.

I take the opportunity to express my feelings as soon as the remaining librarian steps inside the office opposite her desk. "Okay. Let's make this clear. I don't like you, and you don't like me," He tries to cut me off, but I continue, "I don't care if you pay attention or not, I'm just here for the reward. So if you think this a good time to pick on me, then you can find yourself another fucking tutor. I couldn't care less. So. Let's start."

After my ultimatum, he stays silent, only asking questions about the details of the lesson. For awhile, I am reminded of the old Tobias, and I couldn't fathom the possibility of a tutor.

Only until he attempts a problem himself.

My guess, the only reason he's failing is because of his habit of skipping classes with the seniors, 'because it's cool'. Well now they're catching up with him.

Though just like before, he's an extremely quick learner, and can adapt easily. All he needs to do is to give his full attention.

I don't bother encouraging him, or saying things like 'good', because I'd die before I will ever comfort him. So he got a problem right, it's not like he saved an orphanage full of wounded alpacas.

If he keeps up like this, he won't need me any longer, and I can go back to spending my afternoons in my depressing bedroom.

But now, that doesn't sound so entertaining as it used to.

_Am I enjoying this?_

I look up to the clock planted on the ceiling, and note that I have half an hour left.

However it's twenty minutes later when I notice it starting to rain. Pitter patter. Softly at first, but increasing rapidly in the next ten minutes, until it's pouring outside.

I immediately regret not bringing a raincoat with me today.

Tobias catches me staring, and I refocus on the lesson. He has a bad habit of forgetting to label, and I have to constantly remind him too.

Suddenly, I hear a cackling in the loudspeaker, unclear at first, "The time is now three-thirty, students who plan on using the late bus should make their way to the main entrance."

Quickly, I begin packing all my belongings, throwing my backpack around my shoulder. I silently thank myself for wearing a jacket with thick pockets. My phone won't get wet. Hopefully.

"You're taking the late bus?"

I have to bite back the sarcastic response on the tip of my tongue. Calm down, Beatrice. He's being civil. You have to be too. "Yeah."

"Okay." He gathers his stuff, and I walk past him in a huff, and make my way to the front of the building. I take one second to secure all my items, and run, as fast as I can, hoping to avoid getting wet.

It doesn't work. "Beatrice! Beatrice, over here!" I turn my head in the direction I hear my name being called, and se my mom standing in the rain holding two umbrellas. I brisk walk towards her, almost tripping over my own two feet.

I've never been that graceful.

She offers to take my binders, more like grabs them. I gladly accept the umbrella, and we walk in comfort to her silver BMW. Once I am seated, with my seatbelt wrapped over me, I ask the first question that pops in my head, "I thought you were supposed to be working."

"I wanted to pick you up. It's raining buckets outside." My mother responds shyly. It's things like these that make me wonder. My parents have been acting a whole lot nicer to me lately, little things here and there.

"Thank you." Honestly, that's the only thing I have to say at the moment. I obviously know why my mom has been doing these tiny favors, trying to get more involved in my life. Pity.

I don't say anything, and neither does she. I am extremely grateful, because I don't think I could handle one of those awkward conversations parents have with their kids, bonding.

We arrive at our house, and she parks flawlessly in the drive way. Both my father's and my brother's cars are parked there too. I am overtaken by curiosity.

_What's going on?_


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Before you continue reading, here's a little something for one of my readers, ^*-_|-*+_^- [ Kaitlyn ] -^_+*********-|-*^**

**First off, thanks for reading my story! It means a lot. **

**But the plot of this story includes portraying all the cheerleaders as evil, and mean girls, which doesn't apply to real life. I have nothing against cheerleaders, a few of my friends are cheerleaders, and I didn't mean to offend you, (if I did offend you). **

**Anything said in this fanfic, or any of my other ones, that offends anyone, well, don't be offended. The cheerleaders are presented that way in this story to build tension, and for no other reason.**

**Please don't take this literally. I am not trying to offend anyone.**

**Here's Chappie 7!**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 7

**Tris POV**

* * *

_"If you're going through hell, keep going." _

_-Winston Churchill_

* * *

Something I didn't notice before, how big our driveway is. Four cars are parked in it, with plenty of space for another vehicle. I recognize the two other cars, but the third one is a sleek black Mercedes-Benzes, that looks pretty pricey.

The rain ceased a few miles ago, so there was no worry about getting soaked. All that was left was the few raindrops. My mom unlocks the front door, and we step into the mudroom. My sneakers squish with each step, so I place them on the radiator thing on the bottom of the wall. I really don't even know what it is, but I really like it. Whenever my shoes are wet, I can just place them there, and a few hours later, they're dry.

As soon as we step into the living room, mom locks her gaze on my father, who is conversing with a tall, intimidating man, with a large bald spot, and a permanent frown imprinted on his face.

"Hello Natalie, Beatrice. Come. Sit." My father pats the couch cushion, his jaw clenched. My brother stares with eyes wide open at me, and I can't help but feel like their stares are seeping into me, burning holes through my body.

My mother puts on a very fake smile, and attempts to shake hands with the emotionless man, but he just shoos her off. Rude.

"This is Beatrice Prior?"

"Yes, that's me." I fight the urge to drop the formality, but something about that man tells me that he's not going to take that kind of response.

"Are you acquainted with Lauren Wachsberger?" An _uh oh_ thought appears in my head. If she's involved in this, than I have a lot to be afraid of.

I nod my head solemnly, and avoid the curious gazes of the rest of my family. "Is it true that on Friday, May 2nd, 2014 around nine pm, you attacked Ms. Wachsberger?" Oh god. That bitch did this? So the man standing in front of me, is her lawyer?

Snarkily, I respond, "I did not attack her!" Shock crosses my parents faces, but my brother has the look of pure boredom nailed.

"Did you, or did you not cause these scratches on Ms. Wachsberger?" He pulls out three photos out of a manila envelope I didn't notice earlier.

"She attacked me out of nowhere! I was trying to get her off of me!" Great, and I thought things were getting better for me. _Wait a minute_. Is that the reason why everyone at school avoided me like the plague today? Because they thought I hurt the school's head cheerleader and biggest slut? That I was to be feared?

The scary lawyer dude continues, but I block out what he's saying. It doesn't matter, because my parents are responding to his questions for me.

Is it not enough that Lauren gets to ridicule me silly all the time, and stole my best friend, now she's going to get me in trouble within legalities. That...that...I don't even have a word to describe her.

She's an ice queen bitch.

That everyone fears, and that everyone wants to befriend.

Damn her. I hope she freaking burns in hell. She just can't leave me alone, can she? She has to prove to everyone that I am not of worth. That I'm just someone she can assault, and how everyone else who cares about their social status, which is pretty much everyone, should let her get away with it, and even join in making fun of me.

Only this isn't some petty argument where she insults me a few times and goes off laughing, and leave me wondering what I did wrong. No.

She's got the law on her side.

* * *

By the end of the day, a restraining order is in place, stating that I cannot get within twenty feet of "Ms. Wachsberger", god, have I ever been this sick of hearing her name.

One thing I am thankful for, my parents aren't quick to put their fingers on me. There's nothing more that I want to do right now than to disappear into my bedroom, and to never emerge again, but that's not an option if I want my parents on my side.

Although it takes a while, I explain that I, in fact, did not attack Lauren. And that she started scratching back, and only acted in self-defense. I mean, what was I going to do? Let her claw my face out?

And at the end of the hour-long discussion, my parents for once, were understanding, not blaming me.

That was all I needed.

* * *

fwfwgw The only thing that stumps me, is that Tobias didn't say anything about his bitchy girlfriend today, defending her, when he saw me. I forget that my phone is in my pocket, because during dinner, it starts playing my ringtone which is the Attack On Titan theme song.

The Japanese version.

Let's just say no one was expecting that. We're not allowed to use our phones while we eat, so I was stuck wondering who called me.

My mother's voice pulls me back into reality, "Beatrice, I know you won't like this, but the Eatons are coming over for dinner tomorrow. You don't have to talk to Tobias, but he'll be over too, with his parents."

I set my glass on the table, and look at my mom, mouth wide open. Really? Really?

This week could not get any worse.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: This chapter was extremely hard to write. **

**One reason being, I just couldn't get my feelings down, so everytime I reread it, it sounds shallow and emotionless. I try rewriting it, and editing it, but it wasn't right.**

**I'm sorry. But I had to post it. I didn't want to leave it like that, not knowing when I'd get a chance to update this again, so I'm apologizing now for my suckish chapter.**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 8

**Tris POV**

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_"In case you didn't know, dead people don't bleed. If you can bleed-see it, feel it-then you know you're alive. It's irrefutable, undeniable proof. Sometimes I just need a little reminder." _  
_― Amy Efaw,_ _After_

* * *

So not only do I have to see the devil's face on Thursdays, now on Tuesdays too. Wonderful.

As if my life didn't suck enough already.

"Why?" I almost choke on the rice. My brother looks at me like I'm crazy, which is true. I'm the craziest person I know.

I don't know much people.

My parents stay silent, and I immediately know why.

They want me and him to make nice-nice.

"No. No way. Why would you do this?" I stammer, not wanting to believe that they're capable of being this...stupid. Anything but confrontation. It's the last thing I need.

"Beatrice, we thought this would be a good opportunity for the two of you to work out your differences." My father says, uncertainty present in his voice.

Still, my mother says nothing, keeping her eyes trained on her plate. I feel nothing but hatred towards my parents. Nothing I do can ever prove myself to them. In their eyes, I am a blemish to their perfect family. After counting to ten and practicing breathing exercises, I let my eyes meet theirs.

I try my hardest to remain civil, which is pretty much not yelling and not cursing.

My two favorite things.

"You really think that's the solution? Tobias has been bullying me for years, and got the whole school on his side. You think that it's all going to go away with one dinner party?" Do they really believe that? All I can do is stare at my father.

"Well maybe you should try being a bit more amiable. Don't you think you're being a little harsh on Tobias?" As soon as the words leave his mouth, I feel sick to my stomach. Like someone just punched me in the gut.

The meaning in that speaks loud and clear to me. There's no need for elaboration, or further explanation. All the anger bubbles up inside me, and I have to remind myself not to do anything drastic.

My parents don't even believe me. They're blaming me for it.

All these freaking years, they thought that I was the reason for my own misery, that Tobias had no fault. I just can't understand what I did to deserve this. Any of this.

Why did everyone turn their backs on me? I refused to admit it for years, hoping that there was still someone out there, anyone.

How was I so blind to miss it?

No one, not even my parents, are truly on my side. They never were.

_I __really am alone._

Without an ounce of sympathy for them, I get up and walk to my bedroom, ignoring their voices calling me back.

Once the door is locked, my vision blurs, and I feel the teardrops staining my face. I collapse to my knees, my back against my door. The sobs take over and the realization sinks in.

_No one believes you. No one cares about you._

"Stop it!" I yell at the voices in my head. "I don't need anyone!" That's right. I don't need anyone. I can get by just fine by myself.

_I don't need anyone._

The walls start caving in on me, and a faint ringing is in my ears. I try to stand, walking to the bathroom.

Then he steps out.

His mouth is moving, but I can't make out the words.

Then he gets louder, filling my ears with his booming voice, warping it's way all around me.

"Have they finally realized that you're worthless, bitch?"

Worthless.

"Stop it! Just leave me the fuck alone!" I growl at him, pushing that memory from my head.

I don't need people. I don't.

What's the big deal anyways? If my parents have always felt this way, they've showed it already! I shouldn't let it affect me.

What was I thinking anyways? That they loved me?

Yeah right.

I cringe at the thought. It wasn't always like this. I used to have friends. I used to smile.

I used to be happy.

All of that was taken away, two years ago. And I don't even have a clue why.

It would've been nice, to have caring parents. Parents that would praise me, instead of being ashamed of me.

Parents who loved me.

The crying starts all over, and I curl up into a ball.

I don't know how much time passes by.

Five minutes.

Twenty.

An hour.

Two hours.

Tired of it all, I get up, trudging my way into my bathroom. Gently, I shut the door behind me, and start to peel my wet clothes off of me.

My breathing is ragged, and it seems my lungs aren't pumping enough oxygen.

Dizzily, I fall to the floor, and grab the toilet, retching all my contents held in my stomach into it. The stench enters my nose, and brings tears to my eyes.

What is wrong with me?

Laughing like the there's not tomorrow, I slide my long nails under my secret loose tile, a few steps away from my current location. After a little wiggling, it comes out. Underneath it, is a pitch black clipboard, turned upside down to prevent the clasps from allowing the tile to sit on top, seamlessly.

I prop the once used clip board, revealing a beautiful wooden box, with floral patterns carved into it. Given to me long ago, it had no purpose.

But with nowhere to place my razors, the box was perfect. No longer sitting empty, useless.

It holds my most deadly possessions.

All my razors. Eight to be exact.

I pick my favorite out, and reseal the box, placing it back in it's hole.

I enter my bathtub, so the blood would be easier to clean up. Carefully, I use the razor to slice my skin, but it isn't enough.

One cut.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Stray marks are too little. More.

More.

And I have an idea. Head bent over in an uncomfortable position, I carve one word into my inner thigh. The blood flows out, the dark liquid filling the tub, covering my legs.

A few minutes later, the blood clots up, leaving my newest mark visible. I suck in my breath, and admire it.

_Loved._


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: This chapter sucks. Like, I didn't feel any emotion when rereading this. I apologize. But you should read it. A major change is about to take place.**

**Oh yeah, and try to guess where a certain fandom reference is in this chappie! If you're a fan of +++ you'll know what it is! :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 9

**Tris POV**

* * *

_Time is a dressmaker specializing in alterations. _

_-Faith Baldwin_  
_**  
**_

* * *

I find myself having to fight the urge to rub my hand against my newest wound every five seconds.

From far away, it looks like I am trying to get off of myself in class.

Well how could my reputation get any worse?

That's right, it can't. Tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Eaton are coming over for dinner, and bringing their bastard of a son. All the possible outcomes of tonight run through my mind, and it makes me anxious.

No doubt Tobias will try to ruin my day somehow, and in front of our parents, so he won't get in trouble. I wonder if his slutty girlfriend is coming over.

Surprisingly, it is extremely easy to obey the restraining order I was put on. I don't have to see Lauren's caked-face.

Other than lunch, she's not in any of my classes anyways. Being a nerd does that.

Sometimes though, there are a lot of negatives of being ahead of most people. Unlike other honor students in the tenth grade, it was decided I was too good for Algebra 2, so I was put into Calculus AB.

I can't pay attention now.

The dangers of tonight are lurking in the back of my brain, and ignoring them is impossible. Instead, I concentrate on tracing the word on my inner thigh, repeatedly.

With each touch, a rush of electricity runs through me.

Since the incident yesterday, I have been avoiding my parents at all costs, which wasn't really hard. Not even twenty four hours, and they've lost all hope in me.

I try to pretend that this is what I want.

Slipping in and out of my bedroom doesn't require being sneaky, because my parents are out or working, and god knows what Caleb is doing.

Doodling on my notes seems like a pretty good pastime, so I draw knives, and ravens. Or marshmallows. I'm not an artist.

The day goes by quickly, and I keep wishing for longer classes, for all the clocks in the world to simultaneously stop working. I'm dreading tonight, yet it's approaching at a scary rate.

Soon enough, I'm standing outside of my house, key in hand, opening the front door. Not bothering to check if Caleb's car is in the driveway, I make my way to my bedroom, and drop my stuff in a pile by the door.

Honestly, I don't have OCD, but I just can't do anything in my house unless I take a shower. I used to attempt homework, studying, or reading, and I just couldn't concentrate unless I was clean.

So to the bathroom it is.

* * *

Luckily, I don't have much homework, and nothing to study for. This is making my day somewhat better.

After hours of staring at the small screen in my hands, I'm overcome by boredom. My eyes flick to the clock on my wall, and I decide to get dressed for tonight.

I hear a thump come from my brother's room, and an "Oh shit!" from that general direction. _What's going on there?_

Lately, my brother's been acting a bit... different. I can't explain how I know, since I don't know him that well. But living with him for sixteen years have made me notice when something's wrong. Like he's in some sort of deep shit.

The rumors at school are a bit scary.

Now, I do care, even just a little. I hope things can get better. I don't need anymore drama.

Heading down the stairs, my ears prick at the sound of the front door opening, mostly because the alarm states, "Front door, open.". My mother greets the Eatons, and leads them in, even though they've been to our house billions of times.

The politeness makes me want to puke. Seriously.

Before he can see me, I turn away, and enter the kitchen to get some water.

When I return, my parents keep a neutral expression on their faces, trying to make the tension between us unnoticeable.

Our families split, the Eatons sitting on one side, and us on the other. My dad, and Mr. Eaton sit at the ends.

Every time, I have to bring over an extra seat, because our dining table is one seat short of seven guests. Dinner isn't anything special, I just bite and try my hardest to swallow the flavorless food without protest.

"How are you Beatrice? How's school?" Evelyn asks, though only out of politeness. She couldn't care less about me. The same goes for everyone else's thoughts about me.

"I'm fine. School's good." School's not good. Paying attention is harder these days, and I have to see bitch-face on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons. In gym, I have to be extra careful when changing, so not to reveal my cuts. The girls who make it to the bathroom stalls first take ten minutes to change.

Wearing shorts aren't an option anymore, because the slightest movement gives a sneak peak of my wounds.

Our parents keep up the small talk, and it fills me with nausea, how fake everyone is. Strangely, Tobias is expressionless, and I catch Marcus frowning at him every few minutes. I wonder what's up with that.

And then the bomb is dropped.

"We're expecting." Mrs. Eaton is smiling, and so do my parents. However, Marcus and Tobias look like they'd rather be anywhere but here. No one notices, so I dismiss it.

Great, another jackass Eaton. He or she will most likely side with their brother and make my life miserable.  
I mean, more miserable.

I can't imagine what it would be like to have your mom tell you that she's pregnant, when you're already sixteen years old. Actually, I don't want to imagine.

After dinner, our families head to the formal living room, which means that I don't have to come. They'll probably just talk about, like, the endless wonders of the weather, and whatnot.

It scares me to think that's my future.

My feet take me to the porch, and soon, I find myself walking off and lying in the grass. The stars twinkle in the sky, and I can't help but feel mesmerized by the beauty of it all.

The world is cruel and unforgiving.  
Yet so beautiful.

* * *

I don't have a clue for how long I just laid there for, staring at the stars above me. And the most unexpected thing happens.

He comes outside, and lays on the grass a few feet from me, not bothering to acknowledge me. I'm glad Tobias does that, because I don't think I can handle him talking to me. Not this late at night.

Throughout this whole week, he's been avoiding talking to me at all costs, unless it was necessary. And now he's laying here next to me.

I'm almost certain that he's going to get up and leave, when I hear him say, "You could see a million more stars in the sky outside of Chicago."

Wait, so now the asshole is talking to me? "What the hell is wrong with you?" I don't waste any elaborate explanation of my confusion. He doesn't deserve that much.

A few minutes pass, and he says, "That one's the Orion Belt." He points to a cluster of bright stars.

This is really freaking me out.

What

Is

Going

On?

Either I need a therapist, or I'm getting a glimpse of the old Tobias. Which, I thought was very impossible.

I don't even know how to respond, because I am so stunned. How do you expect me to act, when your sworn enemy, who you hate to no level and the feeling is mutual, suddenly starts treating you like a human being instead of a piece of trash.

Not wanting to make a fool of myself, I stay dead quiet. A few smartass remarks enter my mind, but I don't want to piss him off just yet. Everything I once knew as normal, is shaken up. Something's up.

And I want to now what.


End file.
